Just Another Day
by grayfox11738
Summary: In the folds of the Inheritance cycle ran many more than just the story of a certain Shadeslayer. His beginnings were truly humble, and he believed his life would remain focused on the Sin of Greed. Little did he know that fate's hand destined him for as much greatest as it would obscurity. Story of another character within the original story.
1. Chapter 1

Another day to rest my sour bones.

Most men work every day during the same insanity as the next. Some men break away from the mold in ways to set them apart from the typical man. Some see the day as just another day or another of the same old struggle. I was one of those men in the most category for a time. It lasted as long as I could but most men in my area of expertise could never have a "normal" day. The times I can rest I cherish more than most can believe.

I'm a Hunter in every form of the word. I hunt people for a living and had to learn how to adapt and overcome the many hundreds of diverse individuals in this world. I had to separate myself from the typical to learn how other people behaved. To blend in and become one with my environment.

Hunting is something I grew into gradually as opposition grew against my livelihood. I used to hunt down my own food only until life got complicated. I never had to strive for the abnormal much while living my life. I usually waltzed from one cause of disturbances here or there once it life did get difficult. Hunting for food became hunting for money. Life and money are so very interconnected that I learned how to mesh the both of them together. If I wanted to control the flow of gold I had to start doing the unthinkable.

My greatest sin is when I've gained the title of dragon slayer. I regret it to this day because it led me to my destiny. One nearly forced upon me not chosen. The moment I triggered the death of that dragon my life before ended, and I was reborn to put it radically just not for the better.

Life was so simple before. It was just me being the magic using assassin that I am; stealing and killing the nobles and dirty scum of the land like I was ordained to. Suddenly, I somehow got curious enough to find my way to some god's forsaken island in the middle of nowhere only to find nothing there except slugs the size of carriages that are annoying to kill without fire. I don't like using fire-based spells that is why I used my specialty at first being lightning. I fried the bastards into next week until I made some escargot on the go only for one to jump out of nowhere to tear me to pieces. Then I had to switched into fire which made brought back bad times from the past.

I should've left when I had the chance. I had one of those feelings that I needed to leave and not explore the ruins around me. I should've listened to the feeling in the pit of my stomach instead of the voice in my head now that I think about it.

I found a rock protected by some powerful magic in this land. In my land breaking spells can be quite difficult but still achievable with the right wording. My curiosity won thus surpassing my gut feeling and studied the spell on said rock. I learned from experienced though it left my skills as crude as a mace made of malformed stone. I was trained in a way from by a human turned monster on how to meld a spell and use souls to my benefit. It did in this regard. Once I broke the spell eventually and opened the door then pushed my way through that opening into the underground lair.

I'm a treasure hunter and lover of all things shiny and desired. Anything worth the currency of the land I'm in I want it like most of my kind would, but instead of gold and treasure a giant bronze golem of all things greeted me with the intent of killing me. It even had the face of a dragon.

It was impossible to take down by regular means but to shackle it down my way of dropping a boulder on top of it worked quite well enough to hold it off for a time. I knew that treasure was down this cave just from the protection and the guardian within. I just knew it. Color me surprised that I wasn't staggered that I didn't find gold at the bottom because gold doesn't attack your mind in an attempt to turn it to mush. The wills of so many against my own. I felt bad for them because my mind if not the best place to be for any that decided to go a little too far. Unlucky for them I can operate on more basic instinct because of the dragon soul in my body.

Within this cavern I found eggs and other treasures as well. These beings within seemed to be trying to protect the eggs around me and the large golden jewels surrounding them. I had come too far to turn back and snagged one of the golden jewels and the closest egg I could grab and gods that bastard was large. Like that size of my entire arm around only just fit around it and I still couldn't touch my side all the way yet the egg still fit snug under my arms none the less. The gem was almost just as big.

Ignoring the roars in the back of my empty mind, I ran back out passing the golem seconds after it got free. The spell broke and the door was closing. I had just made it out with my leg almost caught in the mouth that closed seconds before the Golem reached me.

I left thinking was rich. Rich for that gold gem was so large It had to be worth an entire castle or maybe a city seeing that it had all the elfish like groves on it as well. The egg fit well in my lap as I laid on the stone door not hearing those things anymore in the pit of my mind. The moment my consciousness came back the sonic boom of all those voices came back and bashed on me like a thousand or so drums in my ears. It took a minute to make out most of it. Screams of anger and outrage at my intrusion and desecration of the tomb of whatever they called it. Then the pleading to return the Eluvai-something and the egg I stole as well. Maybe if they hadn't attacked my mind causing me to blank out my consciousness I might've listened, but I was running on primal instinct at the time to protect myself.

It was too late now. I wasn't going back in there. I was happy not to leave the island empty hand with egg that fit on my back well and a gem that fit in my knapsack just as good. I wish I know how ignorant I was back then before it happened. The story I… no We have to tell… best We start there for now. After I acquired the arbiter to my shift and before I became **Us**. This isn't just my story but **Ours**.

Almost on it's own, controlled by a force that was never originally mine, **our** hands moved along the paper with the quill tight in **our** grip. On his human hand **ours** layered on top to depict his fall and finally **our** rise.


	2. Chapter 2

At the Edge of the Land

The fog was dense like always along the western sea of Alagaesia. The fog they believe came from the Spine or the giant mountain range that is rumored to be full of monsters and many others sorts of beasts' human men cannot seem to comprehend. So, they say that the Spine Mountains are cursed and any that dwell there consequently are cursed to die a most gruesome death.

The thought of this made The Tresure Hunter, who was never blessed with a name to call his own, snicker a bit to himself. He'd normally call such thoughts full-hardy but then he thought of the prospects he could possibly acquire from such superstitious imaginations. It was unanimous in the end to allow the ignorant be the fools that they are.

He's been to the Spine for more than just something to eat. He's taken the odd job here and there to expand his treasury. To stay hidden away from them he's taken time out of his life to build a base of operations in the mountains. A place with all the necessities of life from a black smith forge, trophy room, weapons cache, and more rooms a man like him needs. Now that he thought of it, he didn't have an apt torture and interrogation room as of yet. He'd have to change that to accommodate for any unexpected visitors or untimely guests he'd get his hands on.

In his mind he has all he needs and what you'd expect a man like him to have. While living alone and in silence the voices can come and go, but he prefers it that way. Without having to bother with people he can sit, think, plan, and hide to his heart's content.

A sound body can help a man climb to new heights.

A sound man can help a man grow into greatness.

A sound soul can bring enlightenment that can force the land to shift.

Most humans focus on one over the other rarely two at once, but they have the flexibility to shift and remold themselves from one to the next. Dwarves focus more on the body and the soul shown in their massive contractions, constructions, and lifestyle. They do have gods and belief in spirits than bestow them knowledge passed down through their generations and improved upon with each. Just without the mind they suffer difficulty towards accepting new ideals from their original mold. Their hard head just like the stone they live under. Elves focus primarily on the soul and mind. Their connection with nature earns them a sense of understand and scale than no human or dwarf could ever hope to match. They can become one with their surroundings and each other demonstration camaraderie none of the other races can match. Without the body though they limit themselves to change in stature, state, customs, and overall anything that can shift their way of life. Once out of familiar territory they become uncertain in many regards and paranoid enough to exploit. They lose themselves in time and soon their life if someone takes notice. It's not easy but it's possible.

The Treasure Hunter though didn't hold one over the other. What would be the point outside of leaving you unbalanced and exploitable. It works when dealing with people with wide imaginations and delusions. The apprehension people are inflicted with at the mere mention of certain mountains, swamps, caves, and houses is exactly why he'd be the first to walk into them without fear. Very few human hands tainted the land leaving much treasure for the plunder. The Treasure Hunter takes pleasure in the knowledge that a couple of the legends and heresy talk of some of the places he finds solace in are based on him and his actions within. The walking shadows with red eyes haunting the cave, the horned monster that stalks the fog, the hooded ghost the lurks in the city shadows, or his favorite the dark werewolf that preys on any that enters the forest at midnight are just a few examples.

Perception is reality for humans and humanoids alike. Most of time it was him in a simple outfit or some type of ornament he took in his travels to steer away the curious adventurer. In the situations of low visibility or total silence the nerve of a person grows and become more susceptible to the supernatural and foolish hearsay of monsters lurking in cursed areas. Being a bit of an adventurer in this land himself he didn't humor a rival for the riches of the land hidden away by the Ancients of the Past. The Dragons, Elves, Riders, Urgals, Dwarves, and so many other remnants of fallen kingdoms with riches to plunder to take.

He's always been aware of anything magical or abnormal around him for some reason he couldn't describe. He could see elven runes and track down dwarven kingdoms that fell to time hundreds of years ago. With this he could've assisted humans to discover their origins or maybe their history. He could've been known as a highly proficient scholar with schools named after him. He could've been gains friends with aristocrats and lords with his sensitivity. Instead of this he had chosen to travel the land with one single goal in mind. To become so rich that even kings pale in comparison to his regel confidence. He hasn't looked back since.

The steady flow of funds can come from a multitude of different avenues. One can be the Varden, some group of freedom fighters against the king here or something. They've paid well to assassinate an official here or a noble there. He didn't mind. They get take the blame for everything kill he made under their name. During he'd even steal some gold and jewels from the rich man, maybe even a carpet to furnish one of his safe houses on top of this. All that matters are getting his dues in the form of a mixture of precious metals. Being known as well can be nice but unneeded.

It was simple to stage it all but then he had to get soaked into the rumors from a crazy old man in a tower. One that mentioned an untouched cache of treasure west on an island. Of course, the call for treasure was too much to resist no matter how unreasonable it seemed. He's followed drier leads before that ended well enough and this one was no different.

"Until I almost died on that island!" He screamed to the fog, the sea, and mountain in the distance, and the closing shore. He screamed from frustration and relief. The sheer amount of close calls he suffered in his life have been surpassed by that ones on that island and in the Dragon Ruin. That's what he'll call it. It's simple and to the point with its own little dragon headed golem to guard the ruin. The assassin within him was thankful his scum thief side held precedence over their mind. If not for the inner thief and treasure hunter he'd still be alive but empty handed after blanking out his mind from invasion. It's a technique he discovered after getting captured by a mage or warlock or whatever that magic user was. It dove into his mind to which he had no defense and was being controlled. He then realized that magicians can control only the conscious mind and person within that mind.

What happens when a man's consciousness is erased or locked so deep within his mind that its almost impossible to root it out? The primal mind takes over. One that can't be controlled because it has not conscious to control. It has only desire. He desired the magician dead. A sword into its heart ensured that.

"Those damn worms and slugs," he cursed once his mind reverted back to the festivities that took place on that island. He been doing his best to think of anything except what happened to no avail with anger trailing closely behind the memories. "I lost my damn horse," he slammed the oar of his boat down angrily upon the grain of his raft. The larva on that island, the screeching ones, barrowed into his horse eating him from the inside out. "Then those giant snails with teeth the size of dagger and more numerous than a shark's came into play." His complainants fell on deaf ears with silence as his only response. This did happen more time than he'd like. He was forced to contend with more than his fair share of strange creatures on that island. He got curious enough to capture a couple of them on top of this because he saw the usefulness of having such creatures. Still he lost a horse to the small ones and the large ones were relentless.

"Then that one antler thing that ran like a blasted, sodding panther couldn't run me through enough in that ruin!" The hunter slammed both oars into the water with a slippery but powerful stroke back. A spike of pain spiked through his arm forcing his back to the arc from it. Every stroke must've made it worse because the pain grew from the dull ache from before. The hunter's arm he realized was beginning to feel sore, and his ribs feel weak. "I'm pretty sure a few rips are broken," he surmised just from the echoing pain coursing throughout his body. His vision as well began to swim and shift. He's positive as well it's not from the sway of the boat on the water he made his escape on.

"I'm starting to go delirious from the pain. Gods this hurts so much almost too much." He winced as another spike of pain shot through his spine and then across his body. He's no stranger to pain. If anything, he'd call it a better companion than anyone or thing in this world ever been. Still though, sometimes the pain can get a bit overwhelming even for him. This won't be the first or last time he's suffered a broken bone within his body and won't be the last. Now that began to reminisce a bit of the conflicts in that island, he revealed that he has suffered more than just a fractured arm or ribs. It's worse than that. This pain isn't normal because it's spreading if that's even possible. The headache was the first sign he noticed once leaving that island. It spread a sinister warmth down his neck and into his arm. His ribs came next. Now his core is on fire. This isn't normal. They did something, but the question is what.

The hunter dropped his head until his small stubble touched his chest. Allowed his dark blackened eyes to fall towards the wood of his boat. Even with the thick morning and ocean most surrounding him he still found a way to make out the many lines of hard wood and grain without his boat's little deck. He took a couple breaths to calm his own nerves before they shrouded his reasoning and rational mind. It took a moment, but he got his bearings enough to clear his mind somewhat. The pain dulled after a time and the drifting waving battering the sides of his boat consumed him.

"I need to heal," he declared and imagined how long it'll take him to heal his own wounds. Maybe a week or a month. Maybe even less than a day. He can't concentrate on his health while still adrift and can't rest easy until in familiar conditions. With a sigh the Dragon Ruin thief took up the oars once more and pulled them again and again with gentle strokes so not to upset his wounds.

"For the love of the Sun God's arse, this bloody hurt." A shallow whimper escaped his lips but kept up the tempo of strokes. "It's almost too much. What did those blasted dragons do to me?" The hunter muttered with a couple curses to followed. All of them pertain to large monsters and giant lizards. 'Maybe it's a curse,' he pondered this just to break at least some of the silence outside of the water and waves. In this instance his voice within his head is better than anything. He'd like to think it's because he's never suffered this sort of pain before, but that'd be more bull shit then you'd find in a cow pastor. He's broken bones before, but this hot fire spreading within his being is a new and unfamiliar one. A new one he'd wish stay that way because this feeling is worse than even a cracked skull or the broken hip. He's not arrogant enough to think, let alone say, that this was just another day of treasure hunting. He's counting himself lucky for surviving and planning to never repeat this again. No caves dragon eggs, dragon golems, or dragon roars and attacks. It can all stay on that island and he hoped nowhere else in this land.

Speaking of dragon eggs, with a look back to the one behind him the hunter couldn't help but smirk. He got the treasure of a lifetime in the boat with him. Two of them in fact in the form of an egg and some manner of oversized golden stone. It's like a gem almost and worth a King's ransom at least. It's smaller than the egg, but since the dragons' screams in outrage over losing this stone were possibly desperate and savage than for a dragon's egg, it must mean something to them. Anything dragon related can be worth a castle to the right person. "And I'm sure I know a few that'd bury a kingdom for what I've come to possess." The hunter chuckled at his luck.

To list off a few: The Varden are just dying for a dragon egg, and last he checked they're looking for someone to steal the eggs the king has. King Galbatorex, the mad fallen rider, would probably give him not only money but bestow him dukedom if he presented these to him. But that runs the risk of being captured, tortured, and broken for information on how he came across these. He'd have to wipe his mind just encase that route is chosen. There's the elves but they're elves. No one likes them and they're good for only one thing. Their alcohol and their weaponry. Anything else doesn't matter. Maybe even the Ugual would pay a fortune to get their hands on a real dragon egg. Especially one that's black. As black as a jet with engravings in very tribal line patterns along the sides with an elvish design to it.

They oddly reminded him much of brands on his own left arm that assisted him with spell dispelling without words. Some magic comes easy to him and others not so much. The connection he had to build with the land was simple. It's akin to the teachings of the elves from what books he could snare from human hands. You have to become one with it to blend in. To lose yourself to nature and the life that flows through the world and into what live on it. Sustaining your "self" in all this isn't easy but worthwhile. Knowledge is key and once you have it anything is possible. He had to learn about the what and who during a job, and since people are a part of this he was forced to hunt for new knowledge in time. He had to learn how to manipulate the mind of weak-willed men. With the runes etched onto his skin and metal branded within it, he discovered that with a single touch he could gain the upper hand in some instances.

He examined the egg a little closer than before and secondly the golden gem of sorts. If worse comes to worse, he summed that he could just sell this thing. If that doesn't work use it to enchant a ring or something like that. It has an aura or energy about it that interested him for a moment. It left him with a question on what sort of gem made of gold has a life force? He surmised it's just a trait those dragon artifacts have naturally. Artifacts with sentience and a mind to mold perhaps. Regardless, it could sell for a good sum to someone, but he's not sure who. The King of Surda maybe.

"Ah!" The hunter cringed inwardly at the pain, like needles stabbing deep into his skin repeatedly. It had spread from his sides to his toes this time. "Sodding pain and sodding dragons," he cursed again. He should've known not to get that mixed up with dragon kind. Then again, he thought about the armor he's making from the bones and scales of dragons in his hideout so maybe this is just retribution for desecrating dragon burial grounds repeatedly.

He realized the shifting of the waves and glanced back up bit. He noticed something still and constant in the distance despite the obscuring mist. It's the beach head and he's close to shore. He slowed down instead of stopping. These were slow methodical paddles upward, forward, downward, then back. 'Up, forward, down, and back.' That mantra played in the back of his head again and again. 'Up, forward, down, and back.'

That accursed island. He couldn't see the island anymore, which is a relief. He has two treasures he stole from the dragon rider island. Even the knowledge he contains is invaluable. He mused on this thought for a moment before shaking his head. "This is one of those secrets I'll take to the grave with me. Any one man that finds out about my discovery will abuse the dragon's inside and even I can't allow that," the hunter declared strongly. While he loves the thought of gaining more riches than even he can fathom, the reason why his revenue still exists is because of war. The moment that ruin is found by any power within this land the tides will shift and not for the better for him. Business will grow only to swiftly decline at the end of the war.

"And we can't have that."

"Ahh," he felt the boat bump and shift suddenly which aggravated his core. Despite this he just kept on rowing closer to the shore. The noise and should of the water getting a bit louder for some reason or another. He thought that sounded like the roars in his mind from earlier. Looking downward he realized that he's a little worse for wear on top of injured. His cloths are burnt and ripped in places mainly around his leggings. His leather armor and metal reinforcements are shredded with holes and the like. The wards and enchantment upon his armor have completely burned away it seems.

The hunter sighed at this lost. "I spent 18 slaves, seven horse, and 12 pounds of gold to get this outfit." Elven bark and steel armor are almost impossible to get your hands on, same with a bow made by them. They spend all of their days frolicking through the forest like little pixies but their arms, though old, are worth the strain to possess. This armor was enchanted to redirect hostile spells same with projectiles. The overcoat, though not of elven make, came from a time long past during the days of human riders. He's lost his armor, but his coat and hood and tri-fold hat can still reconstruct in time. Armor is a loss but its not all a total loss. The enchantments were strong, so those dragons had to be especially powerful to cause this to the point their useless. Though the payoff was worth it. A dragon stone and egg…

"Heheh," the hunter chuckled almost evilly. How could he not? "This will set me up for a very, very long time." A battle of wills against a couple dragons and other horrors paid off. "Though it would've been nice to get another egg or stone," the hunter muttered as his eyes traveled upward to the greyish sky. He thought back to the many bouts he's been in, being very few. A full-on battle of strength and will was never in his area of expertise. Weaving and evading, waiting for that perfect time to run to hide, was more up his alley. He'd wait for his enemy to let his guard down then stab him in the back or assault him when he least expects it. Fights are tiring and help your enemy piece together your fighting style, or lack of one. Even though his physical skill can't help him against large opponents his magical prowess on the other hand more than helps him balance that out.

The elfish mythril coat he wore seemed to glow faintly and grow the closer shore became. It faded after feeling another bump and something solid under his oars. "Made it," he sighed in relief. The uncomfortable seat he sat on was starting beat his wounds in exacerbation. He looked back to the spoils of this ruin raiding of his. With energy filling his legs he stood up into a light stumble or two. "What the…?"

He remained stilled for a bit to get his balance and not trip into the surf. "Damn it," he gasped once the dizziness set in again. Once it subsided, he turned his attention to the spoils with a grin on his darkened lips. He reached for the jewel first and held it up for a bit. "Now how I going to carry you and that egg together," he pondered on this new mystery. He's without his bag. Those slugs got their slime on it and the worms ate it. He didn't have the strength to carry one in each hand either.

"What to do?" He scratched his head soberly. He looked down the leather straps and bucklers practically hanging off his chest and waist and shrugged. "Might as well get as much used out of these as I can." He pulled his coat off without any issue. He forgo weaponry for this raid seeing that most of the ruins he's been to are abandoned. Most have magical fortifications or a couple traps. Nothing requiring weaponry outside of tools to climb or explore more. He can survive without swords and the like with only his bare hands to help him through the day. "It still would've helped against that golem."

He put that thought into the back of his mind for now to finish with his make shift sling for the egg. I had enough to fit the egg with two cross straps at the top and bottom leading along the long side to go around my chest. With this set up I can it's hanging from his back. The gem though would have to be carried in his arms he noticed. He sighed. "The risks I take for money." With a chest covered by only a ragged coat and chainmail underneath, he gathered the egg in his arms then stepped out the boat. He looked down with a deep frown nearly disgusted with his state of dress. This didn't suit him that well. This ragged and torn look. He's more… refined than this.

The hunter sighed and faced his boat. This simple brown dingy of a boat took him from start to finish like a champion but it has to be destroyed. The boat has secrets in the wood that anyone with proficient enough knowledge in magic could tap into to see where it has been. He rose his left hand with the egg balanced in the right under his arm. He didn't really want to burn his boat, but this has to be done even if he only stole it from a fisherman not three days ago.

His markings glowed a ghastly red as a force cycled through out his arm then finally released outward in the form of fire. A torrent that consumed the boat in seconds. He didn't bother watch it burn to instead get a move on. "I have to get this egg out of here and this gem before anyone sees me," the hunter declared strongly. "Then find a fence that'll move or help me sell this."

Moving up rocky hill with the heavy load on his back, he trudged on through the mud that his boot sank into with popping noise. Carrying a dragon egg wasn't easy and it only seemed to get heavier and heavier the longer he carried it up this mountain. "It's for the money. It's for the money." He forced himself to think this so to keep my mind off the strain. He needed to think happy thoughts like the gold he'd get in the future. How to get this beautiful meal ticket from here to the Varden without problem. In distance alone, it would take him at least three weeks to travel to get from the Mountains on the other side of the continent. It will be worth yet in the end but there comes a problem. "I don't have anything to do while I walk." He hunted dreaded walking like it was the plague. It's the worst thing in the world next to running. That's why he had a horse to carry everything and ride on. "Until I lost the damn thing," he spat in midst of his panting.

This gem that he held was fascinating in his eyes enough to help take his mind off the walk, more like hike, up the mountain. To him it bared the resemblance of an orb of spirits and yet it's not. More like a stone of spirits than an orb for obvious reasons. If this was the case, then that changed the use and value of this item of his. He pondered on who would want a sentient "stone" of spirits with what felt like a soul residing inside? Now that it dawned on him, he noticed many more of stones like this in that cave. If those stones carried them the consciousness of dragons then he could only assume that the soul of a dragon is in this stone one as well.

"Strange," he mumbled as he studied the stone. The soul within it has the same presence and power as those dragons in a way. The hunter wondered if this gem could force its will upon anyone near. He's not even sure he's going against a male or female dragon. That means that he can't sell it else when or if it wakes up it'll lash out. It would probably be better just to use the dragon soul inside to enchant a crossbow maybe or finalize the dragon armor project he has.

Finding the bones, scales, and fangs of dragons that have been dead for over a hundred or more years hasn't been easy. "One more skeleton and I will be able to finish it," he said with a tighter grip on this physical dragon soul. "Ah," the hunter rubbed his hand through short black hair then down to his equally black stubble. "If only I was a warlock or born a necromancer. The soul arts look interesting," he chuckled to himself smoothly. From what he's heard, being a necromancer has its advantages. Being capable of control a wist or two to reanimate a dead body sounds interesting. Last he heard, the thing goes mad then there's the danger of becoming an undead shade. "Maybe not," he cringed a bit at the thought.

The wind of the mountain blew harder the higher up he climbed. Like blades of white they slashed at his exposed skin cutting into his body. His cuts and wounds stung the worst though there was a bright side. He could feel the heat from whatever those dragons did melt away the colder it became. The blizzard grew ferocious to the point it obscured his sight. Though he did have a light to help him through the snow which originated from the gem in his arms. It illuminated enough golden light to light the ground and even lit up the runes he used as markers on the mountain. Every safe house or hide away he's ever made after the Fall he'd place runes to assist him. Where he places them it's to ensure that no normal or even special man could find them. An elf could if they looked hard enough same with a dragon rider and maybe a shade, but in his mind the odds of that happening were slim.

With his limited knowledge over magic it was meant for more practical application and not so much the extravagant. A small stream of fire or a ball. Manipulate a branch to hang a man by it. Shock a man's neck to render him unconscious. These could be categorized as amazing but compared to what he's seen of riders, shades, elves, and many other magic users he's just a fish in a shark pool. Sometimes being a Wizard can be quite adventitious. They're capable of something called a pocket dimension in their sleeves and lie when asked on it. From what investigation he had time to amount to it makes the things disappear to be taken and used for later. "That would be so useful right now," he sighed a bit.

First before anything the study this gem comes first… after healing. His thoughts settled on this then the needles picked up tempo with every step. 'Blast it, don't think about it!'

Gods above know what sort of wisdom and knowledge this gem might hold. Breaking a dragon could take centuries he didn't have but may be worth the time. Maybe he could talk to it as an alternative. It seems adamant to sleep. As a hunter he was forced to learn the rhythmic patterns of a mind's waves. When awake the waves are erratic but when sleep they're steady. 'It feels nice to listen to that rhythm and the music of the dreams this dragon is having,' he thought before focusing more on that than the winds around him. Its soothing sounds made the sharp pain dull, and right now he needed something to ease the strain upon his mind.

"Agh," the hooded assassin grunted a bit more from a sting in his ribs. "Blast it," he actually forgot to do something about his shattered ribs. If anything, they miffed him the most. With a grunt and some simple movements, the hunter changed the stone from both hands to his right one. He rose my left hand and focused the mana through this brand creating bright yellow-green light that shown along the lines on his hands following the veins within. Once he opened his palm and the green and yellow light spread throughout his entire body and enveloped it in its power but focused on his ribs. These brands of magical enhanced metal forever in a transmuting form. From slightly glowing marks to an ever-changing substance to channel magic energy he knows many would kill for this. Many have died to obtain this and for him he didn't have a choice. No one sane desires death and takes every edge they can to survive when odds shift.

His little gift hurt to get his hands on and hurt when he uses them. No, hurt is when you get stabbed in the leg with a barbed arrow or getting a hand chopped off. He'd prefer that over this.

As he found his way to the mountain pass. He climbed up to the portion with nothing but downward slopes the rest of way. He held his little golden dragon soul closer to his body to hope to shave off the cold. The closest form of warmth he could feel is from this stone. It was constantly warm with so much energy stored inside. The hunter began to wonder if there was a possibility of taking hold of that energy for himself then shook his head at this thought. He's all for using the energy of others for his own gains but a dragon is too risky. He knew from experience. The egg isn't even covered by anything and that soul in his arms was practically a beacon but this high up in the mountains no one would be near enough to see him. He did think about becoming a little more inconspicuous in the future though.

"There we are." The hunter panted harshly from his trek to the cave. His personal rune was simple being just three parallel lines, with the middle one having a swoop meaning he'd made it. He eagerly stepped into the cave and journeyed inside. Instantly, he was gratefully he didn't have to lift his knees ever step to transverse the snow or bow his head to make himself smaller in the barreling winds. He walked carefully around a couple of his traps and marks to ward off predators, both human and beast, up to a dead end. "No," he looked around desperately. Did he take a wrong turn somewhere? His passage was designed the lead any trespasser into circles, but he didn't expected to be tripped up himself. What can he do?

The hunter smirked and reached up to a small indent in the wall to his left. Its at elbow level and it took that elbow to pressed it in, activating the mechanism to turn this stone dead end into a door

"You have to appreciate dwarven architecture," he nodded a few times as a couple noises followed the pressing of the switch. The door opened and immediately a blast of hot air tore past him lifting up his coat and nearly taking the air out of his lungs. "Uh, must've left the furnace on," he muttered with a pant, catching his breath once more. Light from a couple of the cave worms of this place lit up the passage way further into his safe house. He never would have guessed that a dwarven ruin would reside within this mountain. It's long been abandoned once he found it and for good reason. It had a very loud and fiery occupant.

Once he stepped in he placed his foot on a small labeled indent on the floor with only half of his foot being the toes mostly. He had to be careful with the amount of pressure and where because this pressure plate was made specifically for the little people the dwarves are. The hunter placed just enough pressure in the right place on the square for the door behind him to close.

Shing

The spike trap above disengaged allowing the hunter to breathe easy. The cold air struggled to flow in same with the hot to blow out but once the door closed and sealed the current of wind died as if it wasn't there. That annoying flapping of his coat stopped, and he could hear himself think once more.

He breathed in warm air eagerly like a thirsty man drinking water. He made it back tired but very much alive and potentially rich. Rest was what he need more than anything but first he had some work to do.

He looked up to the many glowing worms that rested overhead and followed them accordingly. Once he realized that the worms weren't going away, he found a way to make use of them in place of torches and magical lights. The stone worked well to light up some of the darkness, but with the vast number of traps that still can perforate him if walked one, he needed a way to navigate effectively. Fire in certain areas could ignite and blow up in certain areas, he learned that the hard way, so a heatless form of light was highly desirable. He labelled the walls with runes his brand would illuminate to assist him as well. They acted as signs, just so he knew which way to go.

This place was heavily protected with these traps as proof. Many were sprung already, which he had to fix, but this contained defensed place meant to keep burglars out. It's not the size of a kingdom but more of a castle town. 'That's still pretty large though,' he though before mentally shrugging.

He walked the stretch to reach the main chamber with his left hand open to spot his usual set of brands on the ceiling, floor, and walls just to navigate safely thought this place. He's yet to explore everything with what little time he has before the next dead drop, but he did find the essentials to build something here if he so wished it. The hunter didn't wish to have anyone get blown to bits thought, and he prefers the simple things in life: Privacy, opportunity, and the means to the end. Three simple terms that not all men or women are blessed with in this life or, so they think. "If they enter my abode though they'll lose their blessed life swiftly," the hunter chuckled. The memory of one set of tomb prospectors in the past came to him. He's witnessed the power of traps within decerped ruins like this and favors to suffer cleaning up the mess than ending up full of holes. Then again, the cleanup took a while.

The air shifted the moment he passed through the archway of ornate silver and black iron into the main hollow, as he labeled it. It was a larger than life room with a couple buildings still standing but many have long been destroyed. Signs of fire and something large and brutish layer this hall in the mess. He's found bodies within some of the constructs he's been forced to depose off as well via throwing them into the lava. According to lore one day their bodies will become the very stone that shapes the mountain, or so they believe. People believe whatever helps them sleep at night.

The hunter past by the debris and the constructs upward to the largest of the buildings where he set up shop. He wandered up to the top of the many stairs towards the circular castle above. It has a massive breach at the top almost like broken egg. "Guess they didn't have enough faith." He joked with a poised expression. He's the only here to get the joke.

The hunter noticed the air was a bit stale for some reason. "Maybe another clog in the vents," he reasoned as his eyes wandered the ceiling above that was completely blue sort of like the sky, shining a gentle blue light around him. A decent number of torches rested in their holders ready to be lit but left it alone. He's about to be inside anyway and doesn't need a counter light as of yet. The lava pit as well that flowed through the city in small areas here created some decent light along his path. There's more than enough to counter this blue light on his path, thankfully.

The hunter mused on what the dwarves did in this mountain and the mystery on what happened to them. Maybe snuffed out by war with the other races. It's possible that the king noticed them and decided to destroy them accordingly. Or maybe it could be the reason he was passing by once he walked through the large breached open door before him. Within the largest construct, being the stone egg and with the most fortifications, rested what possibly caused them to leave. It had to be a dragon of all things and it was massive. At first, he wasn't sure how it got into this mountain because the entrances are mainly human sized until he happened followed the path of carnage this thing took to get to this castle. It came from under the mountain. It was possibly stored or trapped here then escaped captivity. It could've been resting here in a deep sleep and the drilling of the dwarves woke it up.

A yellowish dragon that the dwarves couldn't stop.

The massive dragon lay before him with an equally massive black spike impaled into its head. It's just a body that he's been prodding and keeping sustained to make armor out of. Dragon parts sell extremely well just from the rarity. He's taken to storying the dragon's living tissue in the cooler that the dwarves had here and left most of the bones and scales in pieces. He's taken to eating the meat to save him time that could've went into hunting. Now that it came to him, he wondered if one of these stones could be in its body. An energy exists within its body still, and he's yet to cut too deep it out of fear of cursed or something. "I'll have to look into this later," he noted before continuing his way through the main hall up to the stone castle. The dragon didn't destroy it thankfully, so he could work with stone untouched and unblemished by anything since the fall of this kingdom.

Once he entered the large dwarven construction he noticed the throne before him as the first oddity within this tomb. He was led to believe that only one dwarven kingdom existed ever but where there's a throne there was a monarch to sit upon it. The hunter found it almost amusing that the first room past the main brass doors happened to be the throne room. Spoke volumes of the vanity the king under this mountain had with passage ways flanking it from behind and to his left and right near the center of the room. He passed an archway with a red and golden but faded curtain above down a few stairs into where he assumed, they ate. The large stone table in the center was used for something same with the brass and black plates and platters on top.

He past the table for the leftmost passage with a rune above to help navigate through this place as well. The sections of this place he touched were to the left where the lava flows. The furnace is further down to help circulate the heat from the lava into the rest of the kingdom the vents are controlled a bit further up the dome be he needs to go that way later anyway. The architecture of the dwarves impressed him. Even more so that even a dragon couldn't collapse the mountain forever.

"Their kingdom's walls and buildings held strong that's for sure, right?" The hunter looked down to the soul in his arms to no answer. That was okay though. He'd get something out of this dragon soul one way or another.

Firstly, he walked into the smithy through a metal and lava glass door. Despite the darkness of the halls he navigated well enough with his gem to the forge and way they illuminated this place. The room was lit up by the forge and lava within its obsidian reservoirs. Much of this kingdom is made from obsidian to allow the flow of lava from the lava pit into many of its houses and one building with a large forge in it. He didn't see a use behind it for himself but could imagine it as the Smithing Caste home. The Royals lived above the black city in homes made of silver, gold, and obsidian. It's all decoration.

He thought back to another cave he was told was full of monsters and haunted. He entered, and he did in fact find monsters within that he had to combat. The Ra' sik or something like that. They were very ugly in his opinion like a human sided insect mixed with a bird. Killing one wasn't simple, let alone three coupling their large immunity to magic, staggering speed, and impressive pain threshold. Thankfully that didn't deter him, much. With enough flash blasts to blind them he escaped long enough to ambush a few separated from the pack to cut off their heads. The mounts they had, large with leathery black wings, forced him out of that cave to never return. He didn't leave empty handed though.

He walked up to a small table next to the lava forge and placed the soul stone to the side. "What to do with you," the hunter pondered now he got his eye on yet another prize of his from that raid. A brown and slippery egg though much smaller than the dragon one. It's yet to hatch for some reason and it's been almost two years since that day and four months since they found him to take it back. It ended with his other safe house on fire leading to the detonation of much of the blasting powder in the basement taking a few of them with it. It's one of their eggs they'd risk much to get it back. That made him think they saw this as precious but also a risk of carrying. Finding a dealer willing to take it is almost impossible right now.

The hunter has patience as a virtue. That's almost a given for a profession like his.

The hunter set the dragon egg down closest to the lava of the forge on a small circular intent on top. It was meant for something else but works well enough as egg holders. The hunter allowed his naked right hand to glide over the egg's smooth shell before adopting a smile. "I gotta keep this egg warm like the other, but don't you dare hatch," he wagged his finger at the egg. "I can't sell a dragon out of it's shell after all. Same with you," he drew his eyes towards the Ra' egg intently. "I don't know what manner of monster you'd become but can't afford that until I sell you too." He pat the Ra' egg next before pushing off the table.

"Alright," the hunter smacked his cheeks with both hands. "Now for you," he said with his attention now on the dragon soul stone. He scratched his chest and then his forehead. "Still feeling it," he grumbled. Whatever those dragons did it's starting to get on his nerves. Despite the sensation of a sword being plunged into this head, he grabbed the stone in one snatch and walked to the large lever for the vents and furnace below. With a strong tug a rush of air flowed upwards into the rocky ceiling out the room. With that done he walked out back to the throne hall. On the left on the way back was his storage room that doubles as his weapon room and treasury. He pushed the black door open into is trove of many little trinkets and other things he "acquired" during his tomb raiding and treasure hunting in this sector of the land.

A multitude of different weaponry from black iron to steel layered the walls in the first section. Many of which the hunter had no idea how to use. Large and heavy wasn't how he worked so his weaponry reflected it. He learned that being light on your feet with balance utilizing evasion was better than a stone wall defense.

Past the weaponry were a line of dummies with different suits of dwarvan armor. Much of it looked to be for ceremonial purpose. He'd never wear anything like it and couldn't sell it without giving this places existence away. Right now, to his dismay it sits without use. After that is a set of Empire Captain Armor. Very expensive in make and worth the life lost to get it. "He didn't need if anyway," he chuckled as the memory of that last mark filled him. The hunter didn't know the man personally just that someone paid him to take his life. He's accumulated few human suits he'd never wear but keep them for no reason outside of them being shiny. A weakness to shiny precious metals is one he's not ashamed of.

He moved further down the straight room with a door at the end leading out. This wasn't a storage room but with the lava light running a straight line on the ceiling from door to door. This was used for magic in the past but served better as this. He stopped at his dragon scale hide armor with dragon bone reinforcements in crucial areas. He's no black smith, but in a dwarven kingdom full of equipment and blueprints its hard not to indulge a bit. This is his project that's slowly coming together in already a mixture of black and white coating with red strips at the pauldrens. The greaves are missing the right size of bone with no chest piece yet. Its soft to the touch and he's eager to see the aftermath once finished.

"Emerasa," the hunter sighed as his hand glided over the scales. "I'm going to put this to good use so forgive me."

The hunter dismissed his own words and the sorrow that followed. He past his project to the door out with his left arm glowing green-yellow like before. His hand glided over the dragon soul stone. "What an interesting treasure you are." He turned the gem around a few times. "Symmetrical oval shape with grooves that look like you came from the insides of something almost," he deduced as his hand traced the pattern of lines or vine like patterns on the stone. "Almost like blood passages and bone scraps running to the center. Is that where you came from? From inside a living thing. Tell me," he looked directly into the stone. "Can you hear me?" The hunter received silence as an answer.

He berated himself of his actions. Talking to some stone that could be anything. Though he's curious on how the soul of a dragon got trapped inside this stone. 'Could the soul of an elf or maybe a human become soul trapped in this way as well?' He held the stone a bit closer. No use in wondering though when he could find out. "

What magic usage he's proficient in is enchanting. To apply pre-existing magic to an item for a different effect made him a bane to magic users. As he walked into the next room, he reached the stairs up to the tower higher up the mountain. For some reason the closer you become with the heavens the potential for added affects grow. It makes sense to build a tower for magic in the mountains being the largest natural construct in the land. Magic potency can also depend on the weather and what sort of spell used during said weather. He learned that on sunny days use fire enchantments and fire-based spells, on stormy nights use lightning, while high in the sky above the clouds use ice or wind, but on clear days or full moons use armor or weapon enchantments. It's all so simple once you add a little science to it. Fire enchanted weaponry were a bit common in this mountain he assumed because they lived in a volcano.

The gem and I reached the door out and back into the frozen winds of the mountain. He could see the cold aura of the mountains invading through the crevices of the stone door way leaving him. He hesitated to leave the warmth of the mountain and back into the cold once more, but his desire for knowledge steeled his resolve. That and the cold helped with the warmth that's harming his body. He took a heavy breath then pushed the indent on the wall to activate the door's mechanism. It opened a crack and the winds eagerly rushed through the opening liberating the warmth from his body. He let his breath at the white snowy darkness consumed his sight. He passed through the door and instantly felt his grip give into knee deep snow. The door closed behind him after a press of another indent outside the door.

Despite the darkness he could make out the Wizards Tower the dwarves carved from stone and volcanic glass. The path up was mainly stairs that steamed and glowed almost in the faint light breaking through the clouds. The hunter panted a bit like he was a lung short and it wasn't because of the cold. "Okay," he steeled himself and trudged through the snow to the stairs. The use of lava to clear paths and keep areas from icing up was ingenious and to get most of this running again took weeks. It was worth it though.

He sighed out a visible breath before placing his hand on very steps before him. The wind was getting worse to the point it felt moments from carrying him away. He got down low to keep at least two points of contact on the black stairs towards the crag tower. One hand and one foot or both feet to get his balance once more. Once the black door to the tower was before him, he swiftly placed his hand on the bright indent that shown once his markings past it. With a small burst of magical energy, the borders started to glow. Once the door was open enough for him to fit in, he rushed inside and slapped it closed. "Uh so cold," he worded with a shiver taking his entire body by a storm.

Once in the tower the cold still shook him. He rushed up the spiral staircase until he reacted the circular center half way up the tower. Blue light from orbs above gave him the light he needed to see the steps until he reached the large room. Once in the center a light formed on the floor around him. The tower was now activated spreading a comfortable warming around him. "Uh," he breathed easy. He noticed the pain that cursed his body drastically dulled as well. "Blasted dragons put a curse on me," the hunter muttered. This isn't the first time he was cursed and breaking it can be a pain. Magic doesn't affect him like more, but curses and hexes still pain him. This tower, once activated, can purge everything within of all magic to shield the occupants within. Once he leaves the curse will return so best to stay in until he figures out how to break it.

The hunter looked up to the next set of stairs that lead up to the bed chambers he discovered in a messy disarray. Instead of going up he stayed in the center with wooden board below in the middle of the circle.

"Okay," he walked up to the table.

"Let's crack the codex," he said and sat the stone on top. "From what I read," he began to speak to that stone once more. "On this board the dwarves here would practice the soul arts." The hunter walked to the side of the board with his left hand trailing along the grooves. He witnessed the groves responding to the metal branding etched into his skin. "They'd place an orb of spirits I think it's called, on top of this to place a level of sentience within their constructions."

The blue prints he's found left over brought him to this realization. There's more to this place though that he's eager to discover in time. "I don't plan to use their methods of molding a soul but instead to interact with one. You need to prove to me you're able to talk to me. If not, I'll see if I can destroy you," he reasoned with a shrug. "Either way your secrets will go to oblivion so prolonging this silence once I reach for you won't help." With that said the hunter opened his hand over the table and closed his eyes. The table started to work its magic. The translucent stone began to respond to the magic in the form of syphoning the magic. It began to pulse and to move suddenly as a small portion of his energy entered the stone. "Like a curse is being broken," he scoffed. What dragons curse and seal themselves away? It makes no sense.

The stone pulsed and shiver. It's waking up as well as responding well to his presence. He let his left hand fall upon the surface of the stone to test it. It burned in a way to touch it but not from heat. The hunter could see relate it to applying his hand to a wall of ice. He felt something shift within like a life and started to form the tether.

 **"Oha naad seeen!"** A thunderous voice resounded and echoed through his mind forcing him back. His hand didn't move keeping him anchored to the stone. The hunter blinked it saw some manner of claw on his hand and holding his forearm tightly in its grip.

"What in the beyond!" He roared and pulled back to no avail. This thing, this dragon, had it its powerful grip upon his body and suddenly felt something battering the walls of his mind. A collection or roars in a language he couldn't understand shook the table and even the tower itself. What manner of dragon has this much power and presence? It's roar is like those dragon from before but this was louder and gods was it head splitting. The hunter didn't falter though. He's heard the stories of dragons from the bards, all of them different from the last, but they had one fact in common; all dragons prized strength in some form and backing down right now will spell his end.

He's not regretting this decision now to contact this dragon so soon. You'd think he would've learned his lesson about that avid curiosity of his.

The hunter braced as a cold sensation trailed up his left arm. The heat from the magically metal solid brand froze in place. Once used they'd move and dance like elves in the forest, but this dragon brought them to a pause. One hand won't be enough it seems. He placed last hand on the stone and pressed down. "I can't understand you... and stop attacking my mind!" He demanded but instead the attack grew fiercer than before. A battle of minds is deadly but if anyone in this world can stand up to a dragon it him. He'd hoped that is. As the dragon battered and rammed against the wall of his mind the roars grew louder than before. Most of this rambling was incoherent to him but there was intent behind it. It wanted something from him but what is the question. Pain exploded in his mind as the first wall was cracked leading to his memories. The hunter comprised some manner of plan to combat this the only way he could.

Redirection.

He squeezed his eyes more and dove into his mind in an attempt to get his plan in motion. It's difficult to stop a mind probe once they have a certain amount of ground covered. In a battle of minds, it could equate to battlefields with massive armies facing against each other. Saying that this dragon's army was large would be an understatement. It's akin to facing an army of 20,000 with a force of only 4000. It's larger and more powerful vicious than anything he's ever faced in his life. This though didn't deter him. He'd learned from the stories he's read of amazing leaders and general capable of steer the tide of the bleakest of battles. Against an overwhelming force with one goal in mind you can take advantage of their short-sighted tactics. As they charge through the center batter them from the sides and confuse them through clever use of the terrain. In a hunt even bait its best used to lure the animal into a trap. This dragon was attacking like an animal with one goal it's chasing seemingly desperately.

"This is just like any other hunt," he calculated to calm his thoughts for the coming battle. A battle against a legion of dragons before him all with projecting their intent to kill.


End file.
